Oh,no. Not her estate or will. All that's been tended to--which is to say, there isn't an estate to speak of, as Shady Pines cost about $11K a month, and that pretty much used up every red penny from the sale of her home and liquidation of what physical assets she had.
No no no. Today's "paperwork" is the lodging of complaints. I lodged complaints on the phone around April 10th, and now, I've circled back and lodged complaints with the NJ Department of Health, as well as The Joint Commission and CARF International, the latter two handle accreditation of long term care nursing facilities.
I'm more than a bit defeated at this point, as I did call and lodge verbal complaints early in April, back when mom let me know the virus was in the building but before she became infected.
On or about April 10th, I called first the Long Term Care Ombudsman, as well as the state AG's office, and both instructed me to call that state's Department of Health, who informed me they were aware of the issues going on at the facility, and that the facility was instructed regarding using temporary agencies for staffing shortfalls.
My calls to authorities did nothing to slow down or prevent mom getting sick, as COVID19 was like a tsunami ramming its way through that facility.
My mom was a resident there from August 2017 to May 4, 2020 (date of her death), and in all that time she never left the facility, and rarely if ever left the confines of her room. She didn't go out to catch it. And given the facility was quarantined from February and March, which meant no visitors IN, she clearly caught this from those who were tasked with caring for her.
What an odd choice of words, "caring for her." Wouldn't "caring for her" also include taking very basic and necessary precautions to prevent her from getting sick? It's also not outlandish to presume that a good lot of people in long term care facilities are immuno-compromised, so even basic hand washing between tending to each resident SHOULD have been a protocol to be followed.
My mind still reels, and I'm still zigging-and-zagging through this stage of disbelief that she's really, truly, physically GONE. I thought I had mentally prepared and steeled myself for when the time ultimately came for her, and I'm far more distraught than I thought I would be. I thought I had accepted it, the possibility of her death, with each passing crisis. And though I always believed I was daddy's little girl and much closer to him than with my mom, I am distraught.
I don't remember at what point after dad died, when he finally reached out to me from "the beyond," and let me know "I know what you've been up to." And here I am a month and a half after mom passed, and waiting for further contact. I had a faint sensation she reached out to me last week, and thought I heard or felt her say, "I'm sorry I had to go." It still resonates in my ears and my heart.
But I suppose even with her death, I want what I always wanted from her in life: MORE.
No no no. Today's "paperwork" is the lodging of complaints. I lodged complaints on the phone around April 10th, and now, I've circled back and lodged complaints with the NJ Department of Health, as well as The Joint Commission and CARF International, the latter two handle accreditation of long term care nursing facilities.
I'm more than a bit defeated at this point, as I did call and lodge verbal complaints early in April, back when mom let me know the virus was in the building but before she became infected.
On or about April 10th, I called first the Long Term Care Ombudsman, as well as the state AG's office, and both instructed me to call that state's Department of Health, who informed me they were aware of the issues going on at the facility, and that the facility was instructed regarding using temporary agencies for staffing shortfalls.
My calls to authorities did nothing to slow down or prevent mom getting sick, as COVID19 was like a tsunami ramming its way through that facility.
My mom was a resident there from August 2017 to May 4, 2020 (date of her death), and in all that time she never left the facility, and rarely if ever left the confines of her room. She didn't go out to catch it. And given the facility was quarantined from February and March, which meant no visitors IN, she clearly caught this from those who were tasked with caring for her.
What an odd choice of words, "caring for her." Wouldn't "caring for her" also include taking very basic and necessary precautions to prevent her from getting sick? It's also not outlandish to presume that a good lot of people in long term care facilities are immuno-compromised, so even basic hand washing between tending to each resident SHOULD have been a protocol to be followed.
My mind still reels, and I'm still zigging-and-zagging through this stage of disbelief that she's really, truly, physically GONE. I thought I had mentally prepared and steeled myself for when the time ultimately came for her, and I'm far more distraught than I thought I would be. I thought I had accepted it, the possibility of her death, with each passing crisis. And though I always believed I was daddy's little girl and much closer to him than with my mom, I am distraught.
I don't remember at what point after dad died, when he finally reached out to me from "the beyond," and let me know "I know what you've been up to." And here I am a month and a half after mom passed, and waiting for further contact. I had a faint sensation she reached out to me last week, and thought I heard or felt her say, "I'm sorry I had to go." It still resonates in my ears and my heart.
But I suppose even with her death, I want what I always wanted from her in life: MORE.
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